


Notice-Me-Not

by uniquepov



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the Ministry Ball commemorating the fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry gets some unexpected news.</p><p>Written for <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_hd_seasons"><a href="http://hd-seasons.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://hd-seasons.livejournal.com/"><b>hd_seasons</b></a></span>' Lip-Locked fest back in February. =)</p><p><b>Recipient:</b> <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_mayfly_78"></span><a href="http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://mayfly-78.livejournal.com/"><b>mayfly_78</b></a><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Notice-Me-Not

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Author’s Note** Special thanks to my betas and cheerleaders, all of whom helped this story in one way or another! All mistakes remaining are mine alone.

Harry slipped away from the crowd and out onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air. He cast a subtle _Notice-Me-Not_ charm and managed his second deep breath of the evening. He would have preferred to spend tonight, the fifth anniversary of the Final Battle, sharing his grief and remembrances with other survivors in private, away from the adoring public, the fawning Ministry and, above all, the bloody gossip-mongering press.

Instead, he was here, at another insufferable Ministry ball. There were other survivors present, of course; Ron and Hermione were ensconced in a corner with Luna and Romilda, but Harry needed a break from the happy couples. He almost envied Neville, who had put his foot down and staunchly refused to attend this year. He and Hannah were on holiday on the Costa del Sol, nursing their own grief far away from prying eyes.

He leaned over the balustrade, resting on his elbows as he looked out over Muggle London. He closed his eyes, and quietly began his own personal remembrance ritual.

“Mum and Dad,” he said softly. “Bertha Jorkins. Frank Bryce. Barty Crouch. Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Amelia Bones. Emmeline Vance. Florean Fortesque. Mrs. Abbott. Albus Dumbledore. Hedwig. Mad-Eye Moody. Rufus Scrimgeour. Gregorovitch. Gellert Grindelwald. Bathilda Bagshot. Ted Tonks. Dobby. Vincent Crabbe.” His voice was low and broken as he recounted the names of the fallen from the Battle of Hogwarts, ending with, “Fred Weasley. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Colin Creevey. Severus Snape.” Harry bowed his head, murmuring a hushed prayer of thanks for the sacrifices that had been made.

After a moment of silence had passed, a voice said quietly beside him, “Charity Burbage.”

Harry looked up in surprise, meeting Draco Malfoy’s sombre grey gaze. “I – er, thank you.”

Draco nodded, turning his gaze out over the city lights. “It was… good of you, to include Vincent in your list,” he said softly.

Harry leaned against the balustrade once more, sighing. “He – we – were all just kids, Malfoy. Children playing at a war that started before we were born. Crabbe had no more choice than the rest of us did.”

Draco nodded again, his eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance. “I suppose that’s true.”

Another silence stretched between them, as they stood looking out over the city, until Harry caught Draco casting furtive glances at him.

“How did you find me out here, anyway?” Harry asked suddenly. “I cast a privacy charm.”

After a surprised pause, Draco had the good grace to look sheepish. “I followed you out here; as I already knew you were here, a hiding charm wouldn’t have worked on me.”

“You – what? Why?” Harry’s face was a mix of suspicion and puzzlement.

“For the view, Potter. Why do you think? I wanted to talk with you,” the blond snapped peevishly. “Privately,” he murmured.

“But –” the exasperation in the other man’s face kept Harry from finishing the question. Instead, he shifted his weight against the balustrade and folded his arms over his chest. “Alright, then. Talk.”

Draco looked surprised. “I – er – here?”

Harry looked around the otherwise empty balcony. “I don’t think it’s going to get much more private than this, Malfoy,” he pointed out calmly. Harry brushed his fringe out of his eyes impatiently. He’d long ago learned that keeping his hair short kept it manageable, but keeping his fringe long granted him a small measure of privacy, hiding the still-prominent scar on his forehead.

Draco suddenly looked nervous, slicking his tongue over his lips and smoothing a hand over his immaculately groomed hair. “I suppose not,” he conceded.

Another moment of silence stretched between them as Harry watched Draco fidget and the blond looked everywhere but at Harry. He seemed to be mentally debating something, and Harry wondered if the blond was nervous about being seen with him. He’d broken up with Seamus over six months ago, and the press had been brutal, snapping pictures of him at every opportunity, declaring anyone who happened to be in the newest photo with him to be his ‘latest paramour,’ with no regard for the truth. He couldn’t recall seeing Draco attending these events with anyone, but Harry was reasonably certain that a wizard as confident, good-looking and, when you got right down to it, _sexy_ as Draco Malfoy would not be single. He stole a glance at the other man’s lips and wondered, fleetingly, what it would be like to kiss them.

“That was a brilliant capture of the Snitch, at your last match,” the blond told him, pulling Harry from his reverie.

“Thanks, Malfoy, but – why did you want privacy to talk Quidditch?”

“Because,” Draco began, taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the dark-haired wizard, “I don’t want everyone in the Ministry knowing that I think you look bloody hot in your uniform.”

Harry’s breath hitched, eyes widening, as the blond took another slow step forward. “I – you do?”

“I do,” Draco replied with a nod. “And also because,” he continued softly, “I am tired of seeing your latest romantic conquests splashed all over the front page of the newspaper. I certainly don’t want to be the next in the series of _‘Harry Potter’s Every-Flavour Boys’_ , as the _Daily Prophet_ so eloquently dubbed them.”

Harry buried his face in his hands. “Please don’t remind me,” he groaned.

Draco paused. “Harry?”

Harry looked up at him questioningly.

“I saw that you broke up with Finnegan,” the blond whispered, slicking his tongue over his lips and distracting Harry all over again.

Harry nodded dumbly, his eyes riveted to Draco’s mouth.

The blond stopped mere inches from him, reaching up to gently brush dark fringe from his eyes. Harry ducked his head at the gesture, and Draco’s hand lowered slowly, thumb ghosting over his cheek before he withdrew completely.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but then their eyes met and words no longer seemed important.

Emerald melded with silver for a long moment, their twin heartbeats and shallow breathing the only sounds on the deserted balcony, before Harry reached out, cupping the blond’s face in both hands and pulling him in the last few inches to kiss him soundly.

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise for an instant, before he closed them and melted into the kiss. Harry was insistent, his lips pressing down, tongue slicking across the other man’s lips and seeking entrance to his mouth. His hands moved from Draco’s face to tangle gently in his hair, the heel of his palms still resting against the blond’s cheekbones. Draco’s hands went to his waist, pulling him closer and reaching around to squeeze his arse possessively.

Draco groaned softly into the kiss as his tongue danced with Harry’s. His knees went weak at the sound and the pace of their kisses grew more and more frantic. When they finally broke apart, both were panting with need. Draco’s arms stayed wrapped around Harry, who dropped his hands down to the blond’s waist.

“I – um –” Harry stammered. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m glad you did,” Draco whispered.

“Maybe we should – take things slow –” Harry panted, finally catching his breath.

“Slow,” the blond agreed, leaning in to nuzzle his neck softly.

“I didn’t know,” Harry gasped, as the feeling of Draco’s tongue on his skin shot straight to his groin.

“I didn’t want you to know,” the other man whispered, hot breath tickling his ear. “It was easier that way.”

“How long have-?”

“From the beginning,” Draco whispered softly. “It’s always been you, Harry.”

Harry’s breath hitched again. “It has?”

The blond leaned in and kissed him gently. “It has.”

“Tell me… what you want,” Harry asked, voice roughened with need.

“I want you to kiss me again.”

Harry’s eyes widened a fraction before he smiled. “You know… I think that can be arranged… Draco.”

He pulled the blond flush against him, and leaned in for another kiss.


End file.
